Wake Up To Rain
by Noelle McHenry
Summary: After the events of Heavy Rain, Norman Jayden opts to take a vacation. However, things don't go quite as smoothly as planned, and Norman finds himself in a battle for his life alongside the anti-social writer, Alan Wake. A crossover story made as a bit of a joke. Spoiler warning for Heavy Rain right off the bat, and potential spoilers for Alan Wake to be expected.
1. Creak

"_Nah_... _Naah_... _Nnh_... _Nnnnh_... _NO_!"

Norman Jayden jolted awake in a cold sweat. Trembling and panting, he looked at the bedside table to his left - more specifically, at the digital alarm clock on said table.

The time was illuminated in a bright green color: 3:18 AM.

Norman reached over and turned on the lamp. Rain was pouring heavily outside, which reminded him of his time spent in Philadelphia while working on the case of the Origami Killer.

The reminder made him sit up and curl into a fetal position. He almost felt a tear roll down his face.

He had failed. He hadn't been able to hold himself together long enough to find out who the killer was... and because of that, Shaun Mars had died. Ethan Mars, Shaun's father, ended up being the one who really put an end to the killer with a bullet through the head, but Shaun had died regardless.

Norman wasn't too sure what had ever happened to Ethan, but he couldn't even begin to fathom the pain the man must have went through - losing _both_ of his sons only two years apart...

He was so sorry for not being able to help, but he'd never got the chance to tell Ethan that, since he'd left for Washington shortly after he fell apart. But goddammit, he had _tried_. He had _tried_ to find out who the killer was on his own, and because of that, his body had crapped out on him and forced him to _quit_ or _die_.

Norman was sitting there on his bed, feeling like shit, empty tubes of Triptocaine scattered around the floor (a suicide attempt, but Norman was too cowardly to finish himself off and the drug had made him too elated to go through with it anyways), when suddenly he could have sworn he heard a noise on the staircase outside of his room.

_Creeeeak..._

Norman stared at the door. He wondered if he was just hearing things, which wasn't unlikely with how much his mental health had seemingly deteriorated in the past week alone, but then he heard it again.

_Crreeeeeeeak..._

Someone was coming up the stairs.

Norman stood as quietly as he could and reached into his drawer for his 'trusty' Beretta 92FS Inox. He slowly pivoted and aimed his gun at the door.

Nothing.

Figuring he must have just imagined it but still too shaken to go back to sleep, Norman kept his gun with him as he walked out of his bedroom and into the upstairs bathroom. After doing his business, Norman caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and paused.

He looked like _crap_. His eyes were bloodshot and heavily bagged with bruised lids, he had marks on his face from when he had episodes and hit himself a little, he was pale as a ghost, he had bloodstains along his face from when his nose would start bleeding, his hair was ruffled and unkempt, he hadn't shaved in god knows how long so he was developing quite the thick stubble, and on top of all that, he was beginning to develop lines on his face with how much he was frowning and furrowing his brow recently. He slowly turned his face to the left, revealing to himself the scar on his right cheek. For some reason, this almost made him plummet into an emotional breakdown, but he sucked it up, only for his nose to begin bleeding and break his weak 'willpower' yet again.

Then he heard it again.

_Creeak._

But this time, it was the floorboards outside of the bathroom that produced the noise.

Norman quickly stopped sobbing and wiped at his nose, smearing the blood all over his face in the process, as he stared anxiously at the door.

"Who's the'e?" He asked hoarsely.

No response.

"I said who's the'e?!"

No response.

"_Goddahmmit_, I said _who's_-" Norman threw open the door in a sudden fit of rage, only to be grabbed by the throat and thrown to the floor by someone dressed all in black.

The Origami Killer.

He'd come to finish Norman off, it seemed, since he had let Norman live back at the Blue Lagoon. Norman still didn't know why.

"_No_!" Norman yelled. The killer had been stalking him for a long time now, though up until this point he had been rather discreet about it.

Norman crawled back further into the bathroom, the killer stomping in after him.

"Yer dead! Ya can't be he'e now - yer _dead_!" Norman screamed, mostly to convince himself that everything was just in his head.

The Origami Killer knelt down in front of Norman, who was too busy curling up against the wall and cradling his aching head to notice.

"_You are my protégé_."

Norman froze. Had the killer said that?

Upon opening his eyes, Norman suddenly found himself in his car. A bit confused, he looked around.

Yes, he was in his car. He had his raincoat on since he'd heard it was chilly where he was going, and he was on vacation.

Norman sighed and leaned his head against the steering wheel. He was exhausted, even though he assumed he had just been sleeping. What had the killer meant, exactly?

'_It doesn't mattah. He's _dead_._' Norman assured himself in his thoughts.

With one slow, deep breath, Norman tried to doze off, as it would take a little while longer for the ferry he was parked on to arrive at the small town of _Bright Falls_.


	2. This Can't Be Real

Alan Wake jolted awake with a gasp. He was still a tad out of it when he felt a hand on his arm and looked over quickly.

His wife, Alice, was sitting beside him in the passenger seat. She stared at him with a loving look.  
"Alan, _relax_..." She said in a soothing voice. "You just had another nightmare."

"... How long was I out?" He asked her.

"A few hours. We're almost at Bright Falls."

Alan sighed. Again he'd had the nightmare about darkness and someone trying to murder him in it, but he wasn't about to tell his wife that, lest she worry too much. Instead, he undid his seatbelt and opened the car door. "I need to stretch my legs."

Alan Wake was a writer, but he _hated_ people. He wrote the _Alex Casey_ books, and wanted to start a new series, but he was getting immensely frustrated by his recurring writer's block. He looked to his left after stepping out of his car. Everyone who was out of their cars was to his right, except for one man who leaned against his car door, staring vacantly at the bottom of the railing across from him.

Alan could have sworn he knew him from somewhere... and that's when it hit him.

'_He's that FBI agent who covered that killer's case in Philadelphia, isn't he? Hah, and to think I was going to write a book on that until I realized I didn't have anyone to research off of..._' While he thought this, Alan turned his head away from the FBI agent and scoffed. For a brief moment he tried to remember the agent's name, but he reckoned that it didn't matter either way.

The anti-social writer, despite said characteristic, followed his wife into the crowd of people formed around the part of the ferry closest to Bright Falls. She pulled out a camera and took a picture of him with Bright Falls as the backdrop, which he didn't mind. This was where his wife had insisted they have a vacation, to '_give him a break and a chance for his writer's block to pass_.'

Alan already knew his writer's block probably wouldn't go away. However, he supposed he had to give Alice a bit of credit - the vacation removed Alan from the immediate vicinity of the alcohol he so often turned to on rough days...

After driving off of the ferry and ignoring a phone call from his literary agent, Alan briefly made a pit-stop at the Oh Deer Diner, where the waitress, who called herself Rose Marigold, just happened to be '_his number one fan_.'

'_Yeah, that's what they all say... I wish they'd just leave me alone. Now where is Carl Stucky? I need to get the keys to the cabin Alice and I are staying in from him..._'

Heading toward the bathroom to look there, Alan suddenly got a strange vibe. It was as if... someone... or some_thing_... was watching him, from within the shadows...

Slowly, he turned...

... and he gasped when he realized that there was a woman behind him. She was shorter than he was, naturally, and she had a dark veil draped over her eyes. She was dressed in a black funeral dress, which didn't sit well in the back of Alan's mind.

Slowly, the woman extended her hand. She dropped a pair of keys. She then spouted directions at him.

Alan blinked hard, and next thing he knew, she was gone. "Where...?"

It didn't matter. He just wanted to get to the cabin on Cauldron Lake so he could spend some peace and quiet with Alice.

So he picked up the strange keys, left the diner (which he now realized had an inconvenient cardboard cutout of him near the door, which he assumed belonged to Rose), got back into his car, and started to drive toward the Bird Leg Cabin, where he and his wife were going to stay.

Once they arrived, Alan and Alice were stunned by the beauty of Cauldron Lake. Heading up to the cabin, Alan found that the keys he was given by the mysterious woman were, strangely, the keys to the cabin's front door, the keys he was supposed to get from Stucky. However, he let it slide.

He and his wife had not spent much time inside the cabin when they finally settled down in it. It was so beautiful, and Alan was for once, actually enjoying himself.

'_It's so serene here... Everything feels so right. A nice, long break without doing any work should really-_'

"Alan! Alan, come upstairs, into the study! I have a surprise for you!" Alice called down.

Alan figured, '_What the hell, why not?_' and walked upstairs. However, when he saw Alice's '_surprise_,' he froze.

Alice had a typewriter set up for him. "I thought maybe the change of scenery would help your writer's block... If not that, then I was hoping you could go see this doctor, a psychiatrist named Emil Hartman. He specializes in this sort of treatment."

Alan's fury rose to an unhealthy level. "_Goddammit_, Alice! Why do you think I even _agreed_ to come here?! To get _away_ from writing!"

"Alan, I _just_ want to h-"

"Well, don't bother trying! I'm _done_ with writing! So, what - this whole trip was just a damned _ploy_ to get me to start writing again, is _that_ it?!"

"_No_, I just-"

"Just _nothing_! Goddammit!" Alan stormed out of the cabin, but came back in for just a moment to grab a flashlight; it had suddenly become very dark outside...

Alan was walking over the footbridge off of Diver's Isle, the little island Bird Leg Cabin resided on, when suddenly he heard the nearby generator for power in the cabin go off, and Alice started screaming due to her phobia of the dark.

"Oh, for _fuck's_ sake..."

However, she soon began screaming a lot louder. A lot... well, differently. Something was wrong.

"Alice?!" Alan quickly turned back and began running. A flock of crows came seemingly out of nowhere and started picking at him, and when he shone his flashlight on them, they... dissolved?

'_No time, Alice, Alice, where's Alice, _what's happening to Alice_?!_' Thoughts and worries flashed through Alan's mind as he ran into the dark cabin. "ALICE?! ALICE!"

He heard one last scream, followed by a loud splash, and he ran for the back porch. The railing on the edge of the porch had broken. Looking down into the water, Alan could just barely see Alice sinking into the dark depths of Cauldron Lake.

"_ALICE_!" With not a second's hesitation, Alan dived into the water after the love of his life, and just like that, everything went black.

* * *

When Alan awoke, he was in pain, and he heard the noises of his _car_...? Opening his eyes slowly, he found he actually _was_ sitting in his car. It looked like he'd been smashed into on the passenger side of his car, but he couldn't remember how he got there.

It took a moment for his dulled hearing to return, but he finally heard someone beckoning for him to his left. Slowly turning his head, he saw someone standing there, looking frantic and shaken.

"Sah? _Sah_, a'e ya alright? God, I'm _so_ sahrry! Yer cah just came outta nowhe'e! _Please_ answah me!" pleaded the FBI agent Alan had seen on the ferry into Bright Falls. Somehow, Alan's mind clicked, and he finally remembered the name of this man he'd read about a few times online.

'_Norman Jayden._'


End file.
